


Purity

by CharlotteGoldfinch



Category: Crimson Peak - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M, The fucking trailer drove me to this, i hope he's happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 12:26:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3936715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlotteGoldfinch/pseuds/CharlotteGoldfinch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the new Crimson Peak trailers that came out and also my own thoughts of the film, enjoy this smut with a PLOT. GASP. A PLOT.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purity

Sir Thomas Sharpe was never one to have a virginal lover. It wasn't like him to have one. His sister, Lady Lucille Sharpe, was the woman who set him up with all his lady friends. She had always tested the women, asking about their love lives in the past, their sex lives, their everything. Sir Thomas Sharpe hated that. Sir Thomas Sharpe was going to change it.

Sir Thomas Sharpe and Lady Lucille Sharpe were having a ball that same night in their lavish property. A ballroom fit for a queen, and bedrooms for more than what Sir Thomas Sharpe wanted to do to his queen of the night. Sir Thomas Sharpe dressed in a sharp, crisp, clean suit. His hair was combed back and his posture stretched to the absolute minimum for a high class man like himself.

His sister had finally left the man alone for the night after about an hour of him watching one Edith Cushing, a fair skinned and haired young lady who absolutely enticed him. Edith was petite and quiet, only a small laugh coming from perfect lips. The lips that Sir Thomas Sharpe was sure to have his name dripping off by the time the night was through. They had introduced themselves as they entered the ball, and by then, Edith was introduced by Lucille.

The lights went down for a dance shortly before the end, and every man and woman at the ball had a dancer in hand. Every man and woman except for Edith and Sir Thomas, that was. Edith was about to leave the dance floor in embarrassment that a man hadn't chosen her as the music began, but Sir Thomas intervened. A gentle hand caressed her lower arm, and Sir Thomas outstretched his hand.

"Would I have the pleasure of dancing with a fine lady tonight?" he asked, his eyes sincere yet soft enough for her not to say no.

Edith Cushing was speechless. Exactly what he wanted. He wanted her to save her voice for the private dance they were to have in his room after the ball ended.

When all Edith could do but reply to the handsome stranger in front of her, asking her to dance, she did nothing more but take his much larger hand in her own and walked back to the spot on the dance floor

The music continued in a soft melody, and as the night came to a close, candles were passed around to every couple on the floor. A tradition at the manor was that blowing out candles was a sign of vanquishing any spirits. A count of 3 was given to all those holding a candle, and all the dancing flames went out with wisps of smoke trailing off the burning wicks. All the flames, except for Edith and Sir Thomas', that is. Edith was still mesmerised by the sight of her having danced with this strange man that she didn't listen and blow out her candle when she was supposed to.

Luckily not a lot of people noticed, as the room was cascaded into total darkness, save for the flame. The guests were all distracted by gathering their long coats and shawls, ready for the carriage rides home.

Edith was about to leave with the friends she came with when Sir Thomas came up behind her again.

'You're not leaving me... Not yet...' was the thought passing through the mans mind as he tapped her shoulder again.

"Edith, might I be so bold to ask, but to have you stay a while longer? The company of my sister had meant our time together were cut short. I'd love to get to know the lady I danced with on the floor much more."

Edith was again slightly speechless, and she looked back at her friends who were eager to leave.

"Come on, Edith... The carriage will be here in a minute," they all said to her, but Edith looked back at Thomas Sharpe. She stepped into the manor again, giving an apologetic look to the girls, not able to string much more than a sentence together.

"I'm sorry," she whispered as they all sighed, leaving as the carriage arrived at the door

Once they had left the doorway, Sir Thomas Sharpe shut the heavy doors with a bang, scaring Edith a little.

'No running away now...' he smirked to himself. 

"There's a sitting room upstairs, it's much warmer," Sharpe said easily, taking her hand and guiding her through the large manor. They passed 1, 2, 3 doors on the left hand side and 1, 2, 3, 4 doors on the right hand side. On the fourth door, Sir Thomas Sharpe opened the door to the room. It was a sitting room on one side, the opposite side of the room curtained and cordoned off.

"Do take a seat," he said, gesturing to the chaise in front of her. "You must be cold, having stood outside for a while. I'll turn on the fire," he said, leaning down in front of the log fire and starting the flames.

Edith had sat down on the chaise whilst he turned the fire on. She looked around, clearing her throat after she realised it had closed up a little from her lack of talking. Sir Thomas walked back over to her, smoothing out his clothes before sitting down next to her.

"Do tell me about yourself, Edith. You've not said so much as a sentence to me about yourself all evening," he said in slight awe, leaning forwards and tucking a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear as it fell.

Edith went to speak, but found herself unable to do so as she opened her mouth a little. She closed her mouth in embarrassment, looking down and clearing her throat again. "W-What would you like to know?"

"Everything."

Edith began talking from the beginning, talking about her family life, her friends. Topics that came up were her social status and short relationship status that her father forced her into.

"He...My father wanted me to marry the local vicars son, to carry on the line of the family business. We hadn't spoken to each other before, me and Ivan. It was almost like he wanted me to marry a stranger. I couldn't do it. I flat out refused, I didn't want to bear a child to a vicars son who I'd never spoke to. It felt unnatural. It felt...wrong."

As Edith talked about the terrible relationship she had been involved in, Thomas knew that she was still pure. 'It's such a pain having a virginal lover,' he thought to himself. 'I should change that immediately,' was his next thought.

Edith yawned after another long retelling of her upbringing, feeling very awkward that it was late and she couldn't get a carriage to come out to the manor at this hour. Sir Thomas had planned ahead of this situation, taking her hand and leading her to the curtained off area of the sitting room. Opening the curtains, Sir Thomas revealed what was behind it - a lavish four poster bed with an enclosure that was tied back.

"Sir Sharpe...I can't," she began, hushed by a finger to his lips

"It's late. You can't get a carriage at this hour. I'll have you woken by the handmaids in the morning with a carriage outside the door by noon sharp. I won't take no for an answer, Edith," he said. He was determined to have her stay the night. He was also very determined to have her and take away her purity

Edith did nothing but nod meekly, walking over to the large bed. She was not expecting Sir Thomas to follow her to the bed. 

"Sir Sharpe..?" she began.

"This is my room," he said. "And also my bed," he added.

"Sir Sharpe, if you wanting me to be safe means you lose your bed for the night... I can stay elsewhere. There are other bedrooms, aren't there?" She asked timidly, looking around and staring at the bed again.

"Call me Thomas, please," Sir Sharpe said softly, sitting on the bed. "And no, there aren't no other rooms. The other rooms are forbidden to be entered at night," he said. "I will leave the room if you want some privacy to change."

"Thomas... I...I don't have a change of clothes," she admitted.

"That's quite alright," he said, standing up and pulling back the quilts. "If you're tired, you can get into the bed now. I will go to the bathroom across the hall to change, so you can sleep." Thomas walked over to a dresser, pulling out a change of clothes and leaving to go the bathroom to change.

Thomas pulled the door to a close as he left, grinning to himself. He'd have her before the night was over.

Inside the room still, Edith slipped off the shoes she had been wearing and sat down on the bed. It was plush but dense enough that she didn't sink into it immediately. Edith had to bundle her skirts from her dress around her waist before reaching for the quilts to pull them back over her. As she grabbed the edge of the quilt, the door opened again, and Thomas walked back in wearing his nightwear. A simple enough black pyjama suit with button up shirt to match.

Edith averted her eyes, still trying to pull the quilts over her. Thomas walked over to her to assist her, but as she pulled the quilts over, he began to pull them back off. "Thomas?"

"Be quiet, please, Edith. There's been something I've been wanting to do all evening," he said sternly, but with a hint of slight affection in his voice. He leant down, and as she looked up at him, he placed a kiss on her lips. A tentative kiss at first, until he sat down on the bed, urging her to go further. His hand reached her cheek, kissing her deeper. Thomas helped her sit up, holding her waist and breaking off the kiss. 

"I've been wanting to do that to you all evening," he whispered. "But i never had the chance to, because of Lucille forever driving me away from you. I'm sorry, if that's not what you wanted. To have your first kiss stolen by a man you only danced with short of four hours ago," he apologised. "But it almost feels like I'll never kiss another who hasn't been soiled of her purity before. It feels like I won't get the chance to lay with one either. Edith... Would you be mine?" he asked, smiling hopefully and looking into her eyes with sheer hope.

"Be yours...?" she whispered. "What do you mean?"

"Be the one who's different, be one who's pure. Let me be the one to take your purity, please, Edith," he replied, looking over her face for any disagreement or discomfort. "Please..."

Edith nodded shyly, and Thomas made no hesitation to throw the quilts off of the bed, he was going to have her. This time it would be different.

Thomas finally sat down on the bed after a few moments, his long legs still hanging over the side of the wooden frame. Leaning in for another kiss, he stopped for a moment. "Do you want this?" he asked. "We don't have to. Don't give yourself to me because of your state. I can find another pure dove," he whispered.

"I want it, Thomas. I'm fine. I want it," Edith replied, nodding slightly.

At her consenting words, Thomas continued leaning in, kissing her again. His hand still on her clothed waist, her hands not knowing where to stay. They were moving and not resting in a spot for longer than a few seconds. Thomas stopped for a moment, resting his forehead on hers and moving her hands. One on his chest, and one around the back of his neck, to be precise. He kissed her again, and her hands stayed exactly where he placed them mere moments before. 

Wanting to go further with her still, Thomas moved onto the bed properly. Kneeling on folded legs and kissing her once more, he stopped again. She was flushed from a mere kiss - dazed from the passion, the lust. His body began to move again as he sat in front of her, pulling her legs straight and leaning down, kissing her yet again. He was unable to keep his hands off of her. So this is what it's like having a pure lover, he thought to himself. Thomas felt her hands move again, and he pulled back. Her eyes were shut, her mouth open a little, almost in a silent moan or plea of wanton lust. Her hands were frozen in midair, trying to grab at his arms and shirt. He still wanted this, she still wanted this, and he wasn't waiting a moment longer.

Thomas moved his hands to his shirt buttons, carefully undoing them all before letting the shirt hang open, and very soon found timid hands at his torso. Her eyes were open again, slightly glossy from the feeling and mood of everything. She looked like a deer in the headlights, absolutely mesmerised. Her hands found the top of his shirt, pushing it off down his shoulders. As she pushed the fabric down his well built arms, she got the chance to finally touch him on her own accord. The shirt slipped off his hands, and he leant down to kiss her again. Her boldness getting the better of her and the nervous feeling from before finally disintegrating, she wasn't afraid to let her hands roam further. Her small hands ran over a well muscled back, fingers then entwining in the what was combed back hair until it fell in his face.

His instinct got the better of him, and he began to work on her own clothes now. His hands had been restricted from the touch of her skin because of her moderate dress, but that was all to be changed. His hands slid down either side of her slender waist, finding the strings to her dress tied up tightly at the back. Long, skinny fingers found the ribbon holding the dress together, and the bow was delicately pulled apart. The dress was loosened and the skin of her back was now open and on show. His fingertips graced her back, feeling the soft skin. Her skin was warm, his fingertips were cold, and he heard a small gasp come from her mouth as delicate touches were planted on her back. He came up her skin, pushing the fabric of the dress down over her shoulders, arms and even down her front, now exposing all of her chest to him.

He leant closer unto her, finally having the chance to press his hard chest against her own softer one. Skin on skin was finally met, and it was just as he had thought it would be. His weight on hers was a high contrast, and he felt her raise her back to alleviate his weight. His hands found her waist again, sliding up her stomach and his thumb just gracing over her breasts. She let out a soft moan at this, and his hands continued the journey up her skin. He leant down to kiss her again but diverted from her lips, kissing her neck and instantly finding the spot that all of his past lovers didn't have, telling by her convulsing beneath him and soft strangled moan he received. 

Following his journey up her body, his descent began with an animalistic gaze looking up at her as his hands ran down her soft skin. Her chest was rising up and down in a rapid fashion from the now sheer excitement of this man taking her in such a loving fashion. Addressing her every need and want, listening to her for noises discontent and treating her like a queen. As his hands got to the dress that was still covering her body, he stopped. His hands gripped the side of her dresses skirts, bundling and pulling the fabric down past her hips and legs, leaving her completely bare to him. 

She was the absolute vision of a perfect grace. From the better of the bed where he sat back on his legs, he had to avoid everything to not hurt her. His hands placed on the bottom of her legs, he crawled up only slightly, leaning ever closer to where she had never been touched before. His hands rested on her thighs, his thumbs the closest touch to her. She didn't know what to do. She wanted it as much as he did, but she didn't want to seem too eager. She loved how he was treating her like a china doll about to crack and crumble, but she also loved how hungry his eyes looked when he stared over her. 

He finally moved up again, this time being so bold as to rub against her thigh, giving her a warning on what was to come. She gasped, hand instinctively flying out to grab at his shoulder and keep him there. He grinned to himself, looking back up at her and pushing against her slight force to kiss her deep on her lips again. A new instinct was woken inside of Edith, and she was more than brave to slide her hands further down his back. She was even so brave as to lock her legs around him, keeping him in place. It was a feeling she had never witnessed before, and she was loving every moment of it. As her hands reached the small of his back, her small fingers creeped further, pushing past the small waistband of the trousers he was wearing, immediately finding out he was wearing nothing beneath it of any sort. She smiled with knowing, and she felt him shift a little above her. They made eye contact again, and it was a harsh contrast of lust over passion. Their eyes bored into one another. That was when Edith had an excellent idea to make this handsome man take away her purity.

"Thomas... Please," Edith whispered, her fingers pushing down the band of his trousers a little more. "You're driving me crazy," she whined softly, moving her waist and also her hips, being sure to brush against him. She wanted him to tip over the edge and have his way with her. She wanted to see if there was a further animal deep inside.

The brush of her hips set a fire alight inside of Sir Thomas Sharpe, and for the first time that night, he growled. It was now he who found his hands entwined in hair as he kissed her again, and all form of passionate love making flew away like the wisps of the candle smoke. To punish her for her teasing, he brushed against her again, but slower this time. Edith let out another moan and finally pushed his waistband over and down his trousers fell to his knees.

All skin was now bear, and all movements were now a frenzy as they both moved and fought with each other. Feeling him unclothed against Edith's thigh was one of the best feelings that night, and she found her nails making indents in his extremely pale skin as she instinctively scratched gently, leaving red welts. Thomas growled lowly again, shifting only slightly to be centred and positioned for the right moment, but found he had waited long enough. He leaned down, kissing her neck for the second time, and guided himself in. Edith responded with sweet soft moans and pants, her hands not knowing where to stay. Her legs unlocked and spread for him, and she arched her back in the most luxurious way to him. 

Their lovemaking was sweet, slow, with flames of passion every few moments. Everything came to an end after Edith found herself crying out Thomas's name, shutting her eyes and mewling softly as she grasped out at him to pull him close. The cry of his name made Thomas reach his undoing, the grasps of sanity and control losing him as he drove harder into her just one last moment.

Their breaths mingled and the air smelled like sex. Thomas didn't want to move from his position but knew that Edith would be uncomfortable once she came down from the high. Thomas moved, pulling away from her and rolling to the other side of the bed. He grasped the corner of the quilt, pulling it over them and taking Edith in his strong arms, holding her back to his chest.

"Thomas... Thank you," he heard her small voice whisper tiredly.

'My pure dove is no longer pure...' Sir Thomas Sharpe thought to himself. He was proud of the work he had committed tonight.


End file.
